Sunday, August 19, 2007

Well, Farmmom decided she needed a shampooer for her carpets, with the last of her "extra" pay from working the road. Fine, great, fantabulous. What Farmmom wants, Farmmom gets, when she decides to allow herself the luxury of wanting anything.

They had had one of the kind she wanted at the Wal Mart here so I was gonna pick it up for her and take it home with me.

Just one itty bitty problem with this plan. They didn't have it anymore. Ok whatever, you can get it online and ship it to the store without having to pay the shipping fees.

But wait! We'll call the next Wal Mart down the line and see if they have one, cause Farmmom is wanting to get it and use it like.. now.

So, Farmmom made the call, gave the "associate" the model number, everything, asked if they had one.

"Yep, sure thing, we got two of 'em."

So, off we go, Farmmom and I, to drive 90 miles to get the durned thing.

Turn up at the store, find the proper aisle after a bit of searching (freaking remodeling, they just got done with the store here,) and head confidently to the section for the deep cleaners.

Only to stand around with puzzled looks on our faces as we slowly realize, they don't have the one she wanted. They do have two of the same brand, but they're like... two steps down from the one she wants.

So, we found an "associate" who first went looking for someone who worked in that area, then came back telling us he couldn't find anyone, stood there staring at the offending carpet cleaners, and proceeded to tell us how it was our fault because we didn't check with management.

Erm. Excuse me? I don't freakin well think so, you snotty little pissant. I didn't drive ninety miles to be insulted by a sanctimonious, overweight stockboy with a bad combover who's probably looking at the dark side of 35, and works in a position so low they don't even give him a shirt with the Wal Mart logo on it.

After it became clear that we weren't going to admit our fault in the matter, apologize profusely for interrupting what was probably a fascinating fantasy about Angelina Jolie, three hundred gallons of sour cream, and an inflatable swimming pool, he trundled off to call for a manager.

Over the PA. Which wouldn't have been so bad except he did it once. And requested that the manager call the extension he was on. And then came back when he didn't get a reply in five seconds.

So we sent Skippy the Sales Droid back to find a manager again, and he repeated his call over the PA to have a manager call the extension he was at. Several times. Good Skippy, gooood sales droid.

He managed to snag someone who actually worked in the department and she came over to see if she could help us out, figured out what the problem was, found a phone, and requested over the PA the manager come to us for "customer courtesy."

Gee whiz, they've got that here?

Get the manager there and he makes sure he knows what's going on, leads us over to electronics to check the website and get the exact model number of what we want, and we find out... They don't even have them in the stores! You have to order them online.

Fine, whatever, but can we just pay for it here?

"Why certainly ma'am, just get a gift card and enter the information just like you would at home."

So, we did, while Manager Man went and got us a $25 gift card for the expense of the gas to drive up there and back.

Should be in in about a week, pick it up at the store here and it's all good to go.

Farmmom gave me the card to get some new pants, I found some, and off we went.

Final evaluations?

Skippy the Sales Droid: Can the attitude, buddy, or next time you sneer at someone for expecting you people to, oh, I don't know, do your jobs, they might decide to pop one of them nifty shock collars that were on the next aisle over out of the box and field-test it.

Sales Lady: Hey! An effective, helpful, pleasant salesperson with a sincere apology for the inconvenience caused by the incompetence of your co-worker! What a novelty! Judging by the quickness with which you dredged up a name to jog Farmmom's memory with, this isn't the first example of this person's ship-shod attention to detail you've witnessed.

Manager Man: You were up front, helpful, and provided us with compensation for our troubles. Thank you. But please, post a sign somewhere that says "You must say that you are angry about something that is our fault at least four times before we try to make it up to you." It'll save everyone a lot of trouble.